


Orlesian Songs by the Campfire

by Rakenvy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakenvy/pseuds/Rakenvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ares Cousland enjoys a quiet moment between battles, listening to Leliana singing by the campfire.<br/>Later Leliana manages to coax out the reason Ares has been holding back.</p><p>Little cute drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orlesian Songs by the Campfire

Leliana sings softly in Orlesian by the fire at camp that night. 

Ares can't understand a word, but the music washes over her body like a balm. She wonders if the song is an Orlesian hymn, or one of the epic tales Leliana is so fond of telling.  
Little moments like this in between the violence and desolation help her make sense of things. The darkspawn, the bandits, all the pointless politics and the death and despair that they cause... It's hard to stay grounded. Leliana's voice lilting unintelligibly over the crackling of the fire is a rare glimpse of simpler humanity that Ares doesn't get to see much of. Not since Duncan recruited her. 

She sings softly while she mends a tear through her Lothering chantry robes, robes she hasn't worn since the day they met. Lothering has long been ashes and decay, but Leliana still keeps her robes. Ares wonders if it has something to do with reminding her of the Maker's mission for her, or to keep her grounded, or to simply remind her of the small village she called home for a while. 

Her hands look paper white as they move in the firelight, shining hair falling into clear blue eyes, red lips moving to form the words. Ares didn't even know that she could sew. She supposes that sort of skill comes to a person when they have spent so much time being self sufficient.

Ares is the only one observing the moment. Alistair and Wynne chatter quietly on the other side, the former absentmindedly stroking the dog's ears. Zevran reclines luxuriously on his bedroll with some tome or other, Oghren passed out drunk nearby. Sten stands watch, and Morrigan presumably is at her own separate encampment doing Maker knows what.  
Ares lays back contented, peaceful, watching and listening, until Leliana finishes her final stitch. She sits back, a satisfied smile lighting her face as she observes her handiwork. 

"How did you manage to tear the robes, if you haven't been wearing them?" Ares breaks the new silence, voice cracking from lack of use. 

Leliana looks up, catching sight of the reclining warrior, surprised to have an audience. She gives the warden a small smile, taking a moment to observe the sight before her. The unarmored Reaver lays back, dark muscled arms coiled behind her head, legs crossed, observing her with such adoration in her eyes.

"Honestly, my love, I do not know. I assume my pack snagged on something." 

She stands and places the neatly folded robes in her pack, bending over to show the swell of her ass before stretching her arms above her head, her light shirt pulling at her shoulders, chest, lifting up further down to show creamy thighs. Ares had not noticed the lack of breeches, somehow, until now.  
Ares flushes, and quickly looks away. They've been together for some months now, but Ares still feels a reverence for Leliana she finds difficult to understand. It's almost like she is... Too much. Her silky, warm skin, the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips, her full lips, all that bloody Orlesian and giggling followed by an arrow to the face of an enemy. Leliana is overwhelmingly beautiful, and Ares feels like she doesn't have enough room for the urges and feelings while still managing to hold her sword straight. 

Suddenly Leliana is seated opposite her, crossing her legs, looking into her golden eyes curiously. Ares sits up to greet her, swiping her sun streaked hair back and out of her face. 

"Have you been watching me, sweetness?"

"Listening, and watching," Ares replies uncertainly. "I like to watch you when you think no one is looking."

Leliana arches an eyebrow, her lips quirking. 

"Uh... I mean... Like, just because you look really beautiful when you don't know anyone's watching. Not in a strange way, just that you have no pretences when you're just... Not that you're pretentious-" her babbling is cut short when a soft finger is gently pressed to her lips. 

"Darling," Leliana giggles. 

"Maker. I ruined such a nice moment." Ares groans, grasping the outstretched hand and hiding her face behind it. "I just meant I like to see you in moments of normalcy." She continues. 

She entwines Leliana's lightly calloused, slender fingers with her own rougher, larger, darker ones. 

"Just doing regular things, like you did before the Blight. I imagine what it could have been like to know you before. Without all this mess. I could have met you playing in a tavern or in the chantry, listened to your lovely voice without wondering if it will be silenced by darkspawn on the morrow."

Leliana strokes her face gently with her other hand, smiling fondly. "Sweetness. You have such pretty words, even when you believe otherwise." 

Ares scoffs. "I don't feel very pretty."

Leliana stands gracefully before settling easily into her warden's lap, one arm winding around her tanned neck, the other resting on a firm bicep. She leans in and kisses Ares gently on the nose.

"Perhaps pretty is not the word you would choose, hm? Should we try dashing? Handsome?" She teases. 

"You know what I mean." Ares scrunches her face up under the kiss, uncharacteristically bashful for a supposedly fearsome warrior. 

"Your words express the tender workings of your heart," whispers Leliana, now pressing her lips to the column of Ares' neck, sending shivers down her spine. 

"You have a glorious, warm heart that has enchanted my very soul, my love. You may watch me whenever you wish."

"Really?" Ares grins, "Whenever I wish? Are you planning on bathing tonight?"

"Maker. There is the Ares I know." Leliana laughs. "Why do I love you so?"

"I'm dashing and handsome, right?"

"That you are. How could I forget?" Leliana purrs, before capturing her mouth in a hungry kiss, tangling her fingers in the cloth of the shirt at her back. 

Ares groans and returns it, the surge of sensation, the heat threatening to overcome her. She brushes the auburn locks out of Leliana's face, letting her fingertips brush gently over her skin. 

Leliana pulls away slightly, pressing a lighter kiss on Ares' mouth before resting her forehead against hers. 

"You touch me as if you are afraid of shattering me, sweetness," she says breathily. 

"I... don't want to shatter you." Ares shuts her eyes, leaning forward slightly. Her hands rest on the small of her back, fingers shaking on the curve of her hips. Leliana is a gift, a flower, Andraste's Grace. Deadly or not, Ares is still afraid of whatever it is that she has set ablaze. She has not felt this fire before. 

"I'm a lot harder to shatter than you seem to think," Leliana husks. "In fact, I'd like it if you pushed a little harder. You've got a lot to push with." She runs her hands over Ares' broad shoulders, as if illustrating her point. Ares shivers.

"You are a treasure to me." Ares says. She opens her eyes and with difficulty, meets Leliana's. She might as well be honest. "I've never felt anything like this before. And after Marjolaine... you deserve to be treated like a queen. I am afraid to hurt you."

"Have you never...?"

"What? Oh! Yes! Yes, I have," Ares hastily clarifies.

"Then what do you mean, if you are familiar with the act?" Asks Leliana, returning to her previous place at Ares' throat, pressing open mouthed kisses there.

"I mean..." Ares attempts to gasp out a coherent thought, fingers raising to tangle in Leliana's hair despite herself. Leliana hums happily, encouraged to continue, her nails raking into Ares' shoulder blades through the fabric.

"Maker, Leliana."

"You were saying, my love?" She teases, nipping lightly at the skin under her mouth as she grins, satisfied with the reactions she is earning.

"I mean, I have... Maker! A lot of feelings about you... and I..."

"You what?" She continues grazing her teeth and soothing with kisses.

"I just worry I'll lose myself and hurt you!" Ares breathes out as fast as possible, pulling tighter on the red locks in her grip, earning a sound from her partner. "See? Like that! I am a lot bigger than you, stronger than you. I don't want to hurt you. Marjolaine hurt you. I don't want to be like her."

Leliana sits back from her task, looking seriously into Ares eyes, her lips swollen. "What did I do that was so wonderful that the Maker saw fit to bring you into my life?"

"What?"

"My love. You are breaking my heart. You are nothing like Marjolaine. I like when you show your strength. I love it, in fact. Do you not understand the difference between the two of you? It is a gaping chasm, sweetness."

Ares simply looks back at her, her face almost childlike, waiting for further explanation.

"Marjolaine might hurt me, or not hurt me. But she would not pay any mind to my feelings on the matter. You would hurt me or not hurt me, completely depending upon my feelings on the matter. Do you see?"

Ares knots her eyebrows together. Then raises one. That actually makes sense. 

"I... see."

Leliana pulls her warden in for another kiss, softer this time. They stay like that for a while, simply and gently, before Ares decides to try something. She lets one hand stray down to the small of Leliana's back again, but this time she decisively grips, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin through the cloth, the tantalising curve of her waist. Her other arm wraps around Leliana's shoulders, pulling the bard towards her, deepening the kiss. 

Her reaction is immediate and very approving, Leliana moans loudly and tangles her fingers in Ares' short hair.

"Yes," she hisses against Ares' mouth. "I am yours, my love. I trust you." She brings their lips back together desperately.

"Perhaps it is bedtime?" Ares pants, doubting her control will last for much longer. "I really don't want Zevran giving me shit for this for the foreseeable future. And we must think of poor virginal Alistair."

"Hey!" Ares hears Alistair shout indignantly from across the fire, and chuckles deeply.

"Then do something about it." Leliana challenges, nipping at Ares' bottom lip.

"Fine." She stands abruptly with Leliana still bundled tightly in her arms, who lets out a small squeak. "To bed, then."

She dashes across the camp and into her tent, Leliana giggling all the way.


End file.
